Late Night Drummer
by MrFiretank
Summary: Everything went fine over the last years...I could play for other people, enjoy stream after stream, just have a great time! But, what happens when you have to change you ways? If they would ask me: "Do you enjoy drumming for others?", I'd always have two answers. One being your typical: "Of course!". The other one...well, stays with me... (A One-Shot for The8BitDrummer!)


_This one-shot is based upon a little idea that sprung into my mind when I was watching Jerod / The8BitDrummer play a few times, so since you helped me get rid of my boredom, here's a little gift for you in my special way! I usually don't write one-shots, but this'll be an expection!_

 _So, enjoy this gift Jerod! You deserve it!_

* * *

 _(For more Intensity, play…you know what, just play any song from 'Hotline Miami' / 'Payday 2' or 'M.O.O.N.' for that matter that doesn't go completely wild. For example, how about 'Payday 2 OST – The Mark (Stealth)' on loop?)_

The darkness had already settled down…bright neon-lights and street signs filled the view ahead of us. Midnight, the time where mob-bosses usually awakened from their slumber of alcohol and adrenaline. And I was about to drive to one's den…for another performance.

Don't get me wrong! The stream itself was a lot of fun, and the dozens of donations kept me over water, but…well, tonight was an opportunity that I wouldn't let go to waste.

For anyone asking what I'm even talking about, let me explain:

One week ago I finished the stream for today, many subscribers and followers alike joined in that day to enjoy my covers. I even received a donation by some weird guy, 1000 Dollars in a single message. "For you hard work..." it said. Both the stream-chat and I basically flipped out at that, there was even a short break after it to calm down from the surprise. Simply amazing!

Yeah, it was great. Many fans, more fun and enjoyment that day. But, after I was cleaning up the dozen bottles of Gatorade from their pile, it got…weird.

I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen in my house, making me jump in slight surprise. Plastic fell to the ground once more, making me sigh in exhaustion. My legs pulled me over to where the receiver rested, letting me grab it and answering the call with an 'energetic' "Hello?"

For ten seconds, there was total silence. I was slowly getting impatient and about to end the call, before a robotic-like voice called out. "You're a skilled musician…Jerod. Look outside." Questions rose in my mind at the weird call-out, but I complied nonetheless and…man, was I in for the surprise of my life…

If the black van before my front door that instantly drove away from its spot wasn't shocking enough, the small envelope on the floor might have given me a miniature heart-attack. The envelope had my name on it, spelled out of cut article-characters. 'Well, if that isn't classy…'

I opened the envelope in kitchen and slowly pulled out a small piece of paper...and five Grand…So much money, just neatly layered into a stack within the paper. 'The message itself might have a clue for that bundle'.

I…wasn't exactly wrong with this idea, but…well…

* * *

 _HeLl_ o **J** _ **E**_ **R** _ **O**_ d!

T _h_ i **S i** _S_ _ **a**_ _L_ i _T_ _ **Tl**_ **E** **GIFT** _for_ **y** O _u_ _ **R**_ _T_ **RO** u _b_ **E** _S!_

 **I** _f_ yo _U_ _ **wanT**_ **t** O _e_ **A** r _N_ _**MORE**_ ,

t _H_ **E** _N p_ **LAY** a _T_ t **HE** f _o_ _ **ll**_ o **w** _ **in**_ **G** _A_ _ **dd**_ _re_ _ **ss**_ _in_ _ **1 WEEK!**_

 **YOUR FAN!**

* * *

This message still creeped me out to no end, and I even considered to call the police, but if these guys already knew my address, then it would probably be futile in the situation. I (at least) searched up the place they mentioned in their message. It was twenty, maybe thirty minutes away from home and easily accessable at night by car. So no real choice left, I decided to pay them a visit (even if forced).

Do you get it now? Sure, they promised cash, but that seemed almost worthless considering that my own life could be on the line…huge doors showed up to my right. 'The Gash', my location.

I parked my own car in the parking lot a few blocks away from there, walked to the entrance and was almost at the handle before somebody packed me roughly on my shoulder. A pair of sun-glasses of a mobster were looking down at me, radiating frustration and impatience. My heart was beating like crazy…

I was just about to start rambling from the nervousness, before another hand packed me on the arm and dragged me to the back entrance, while a gruff "He's here to perform, silly…" could be heard. My mind was completely gone at this point, the mysterious man dragging me even further before we stopped at an unsightly old door.

"Come on, no need to be shy!" I was roughly pushed inside when my eyes landed on the small backstage area, behind the main floor of this club. Keeping my sounds low, I sneaked around to find anything useful in here… 'Should bad go to worse….what have I gotten myself into-'

" **Jerod.** "

"AAH!" Lashing out at the sound wasn't probably my best idea, since a sharp pain erupted from my entire hand after that puny swing. There was a man in a tuxedo, white gloves and a skeleton mask in pure grey looking at me. One hand was twisting my entire left arm, making me almost yelp in pain. In his other hand…

'Oh god…' A handgun. A **REAL** handgun, pointing on my temple and probably loaded…I wasn't fully sure at this point if this was a giant prank…or the darkest day of my life.

"Now, here's how this is going to play out…" A small metallic click rang beside my temple, me flinching in the process… "I need an **excellent** performer tonight, to give me a bit of…covering? No, no…more like a distraction. Since I'll be acting 'Behind the Scenes', so to speak, I couldn't just pick anyone at random who'd sell me out…so I thought I picked someone more…special…" '…What the frick?'

"Your job's simple, Jerod…just play your drums for a little and entertain the crowd, cause a commotion, make a scene, just **distract**! When everything's over, you'll be paid your share and we _all_ walk home scot-free…" The guy let go of my hand, so I could finally stand up properly. My wrist was hurting from his grip, even with my build he could easily batter me into the ground…

"Hold on…why me?" The guy cackled at that, throwing his hands into the air and waving his gun around like he'd have no care in the world.

"It's actually simple! See, you're famous on the internet any **maybe** in some cities of this world…but here in the underworld, you're basically nobody. No status, no quota, no fans. Just plain old you. Got it?" My mind was screaming at me to just run out of the door and get away from this, but even I knew that (whatever he was pulling) had me trapped too far into it…I had no choice.

"How long?"

"Yes, GOOD! THAT are the question I want to hear, boy! Hmm…not too long I guess, maybe…20 minutes at best, yeah…nothing longer than that."

"…Fine…BUT-"

"I swear, Jerod! There'll be no mistakes made, trust me! The drums are already set up on stage, just go out there and have fun! It'll be like any performance of yours! I, on the other hand, will work for now…later 'Drummer-Boy'…" The guy disappeared into a side-passage connecting the backstage-area, leaving me alone in confusion, and fear. He wasn't defiantly joking around when he said to 'distract' the crowd. But me? I wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do…

Nevertheless, I have no choice left anymore, so I walk out to the modernized stage and saw a huge crowd before my eyes. Drinks flowed in rivers, teenagers and adults alike shared the available space and ecstasy filled their senses. Their eyes fell on me as I walked out, creating a small vacuum of silence in the store.

"Psst!"

My gaze drifted upwards to see none other than 'Skull' waving at me in a gesture, meaning 'Come on!' He didn't want me to waste any time, so with a deep breath I sat myself at the…surprisingly familiar set of drums before me… 'How much does the guy know about me?'

It was difficult to play with the increased the heightened heartbeat of mine, but I could manage…yet, what should I play right now? There was a small laptop attached to the speakers via. cables, sported with internet-access. 'Maybe something club-ish? Probably…'

* * *

 _(For more Intensity, switch the mentioned songs according to sequence!)_

I opened my set with 'Carpenter Brut – Le Perv', creating a darker, but more stylish atmosphere around the club. At the beginning, everyone was stiff at first, but they all started enjoying the sound of Darksynth ringing in the air. After I was done, they cheered from all sides and asked for more. 'Well, might as well play since they asked.'

A few of the club's guards gave me a pointed stare, daring me to behave out of line. This felt like a life-or-death situation right now. 'Why was I pulled into this in the first place!?'

Next was from 'M.O.O.N. – Quixotic' on my list. Hotline Miami had done Justice with this song, from its dominant base, over the rhythmic flow throughout the entire length of the track, to its general quality. The crowd on the dancefloor was literally entranced by the music, and even a few of the mobsters bopped their heads.

Now that I could clearly think again, my eyes spotted a trail of metallic-grey behind a few guys' jackets…they were armed to the teeth. 'It's ok, Jerod! You got this, just think of something else!'

My eyes wandered upwards in anxiety of the situation upstairs, but I didn't expect a lifeless gaze to stare at me back. 'The mob-boss!' Panic started to settle inside of me, questioning myself if anyone saw the same as I did, but 'Skull' had already removed the guy's face from my view and rose four fingers while also giving me a thumbs-up. 'WHAT'S HIS DEAL!?'

That didn't matter to me anymore, I just wanted to get out of this place! So, with the last track being 'M.O.O.N. – Dust', a bit more from the melodic side would help me contain the crowd, as well as keeping my nerves in check. The track did its wonders, and before I could even stand up, everyone erupted in cheering and praise. I spotted how the goons started rushing to the backside of 'The Gash', probably being alerted by 'Skull'- 'Oh crap.'

It was an acceptable sight, but considering the latest turn of events, I just stood up and ran outside to my car. The neon-lights illuminated the void around me, cold wind flows through the gaps and alleyways in between any buildings, there were even a few puddles reflecting my nervous façade.

* * *

I enter my car's driver seat, close the door shut and breathe out for a moment. God…that was a close-

"'Drummer-Boy'!"

"JESUS, WHY ARE YOU IN MY CAR!?" My 'partner' just lazily sat or the passenger seat, arms resting on his sides and a bottle of alcohol in his hands.

"Well, I need go get away, DUH! Just abandon me somewhere mid-way and you're done." My heart was on the verge of erupting from the high blood pressure…sure this wasn't healthy in the first place. The engine roared to life once more when we drove ahead…smooth Jazz distracting me from the unwanted guest…

"So…did you enjoy it out there?" Wait, I didn't expect **that** question!

"Huh?" What is he implying?

"You know, the adrenaline, the atmosphere, the RUSH! Playing with you heart and soul like your life depends on it! Wasn't it a thrilling experience?" Hmmm…

"Well…it was certainly…something…"

"Oh! So you DID enjoy it!"

"…I can't deny that. But I also can't deny fearing for my life back there!"

"Man, for being a famous streamer, you're quite the pansy! Meh, whatever…there, you can stop on that parking lot."

All four wheels rolled to a stand-still, the passenger door opens and 'Skull' steps with a single foot out of my car. The mysterious man turned his head towards me and holds a sealed envelope before me. There was a slight hesitation, but I grabbed it after a minute…guilt, mixed with anxiety settled in my stomach, yet it was too late to turn back now…

"I hope this amount will suffice for you astonishing act today! This was a one-time performance, but I'll still enjoy your streams… bye bye!" And there he walked away, the one man who made my last week a nervous goose chase…I fired up my engine and drove slowly home, sometimes looking behind me for any sings of mobsters…

When I arrived home, both the sealed envelope (probably containing money) and the letters from before disappeared into random drawers. A month passed after that night, no new calls from 'Skull' or any letters requesting personal shows…besides Hurricane 'Irma' there wasn't anything world-breaking happening…

Well, I was slowly getting back into my daily rhythm, and it felt more…secure than before…but, there was one thing: Those three songs that I played, they'd always have a deeper meaning for me until this day. Maybe…

Maybe I like drumming in other ways…

* * *

 _Well, that's the end of this little story! If you haven't noticed it yet, I took a lot of influence from 'Hotline Miami' for this one, and decided to be more open on my style for this piece of 'literature'!_

 _Anyone who read this, it's just made up! Nothing of the above actually happened (besides Hurricane 'Irma', but let's assume that I didn't just say that. We're praying for you all!) and this story is NOT based upon real events, so calm down keyboard-warriors!_

 _With this, I'll take my leave, so enjoy your day / night and maybe check_ **The8BitDrummer** _out for once! Trust me, it'll be worth it!_

 _The Sir's out!_


End file.
